Thursday, February 12, 2009

"The city has emerged in recent years as an indispensable concept for many of the struggles for social justice we are all engaged in - it's a place where theory meets practice, where the neighborhood organizes against global capitalism, where unequal divisions based on race and class can be mapped out block by block and contested, where the micropolitics of gender and sexual orientation are subject to metropolitan rearticulation, where every corner is a potential site of resistance and every vacant lot a commons to be reclaimed, and, most importantly, a place where all our diverse struggles and strategies have a chance of coming together into something greater. In cities everywhere, new social movements are coming into being, hidden histories and herstories are being uncovered, and unanticipated futures are being imagined and built - but so much of this knowledge remains, so to speak, at street-level. We need a space to gather and share our stories, our ideas and analysis, a space to come together and rethink the city from below."

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Slept until 10:45am, got up, and showered for the third time in 30 hours. Realized that my OCD has been getting out of hand lately. Fixed a broken couch while wearing a sleeveless shirt that showed my unshaved armpits. Realized why people think I'm a dyke.

Grabbed a cup of coffee and walked past the super cool bicycle messengers on my way to the BART. Jealous of their career, but not of their attitude. Embarassed of my paper Starbucks cup, but not of the holes in my pants.

Headed to Berkeley and scoped out four more bike shops (I've been to 14 shops in 3 days). Only one shop has a bike suitable (and dope enough) for me. It will be purchased tomorrow, thanks to the loving generosity of my big brother. So thankful.

Rain and sun on and off all day - making great rainbows and very soggy sneakers. With nothing better to do, and my mind on my poverty status, I decided to walk the several miles home instead of pay to take the subway and bus. My ipod was tuned to my Cozy Like Cats // Cats Like Cozy playlist. Fresh to death. Regardless, I got chilled to the bone walking the several miles / hours home. It was a typical windy and rainy Bay Area winter day. The kind with sideways rain, insulting all umbrellas.

Chose the most uphill route to my house (health is wealth). Bedroom. My nest. Cozy clothes on. Cancelled a date I was anxious about all day. Reading $pread, Unlikely, and Craigslist Missed Connections (a wonderful weekly ritual) on my tilted couch. Realized that almost everything I have is old, broken, and frayed. Realized that doesn't bother me. Smiling.

Snickerdoodle cookies can be made with lard? I want to try one. Instead, I will watch brain-melting videos and read ridiculous articles provided by my favorite gchat / wrestling friend.

Wondering if my insomnia will persevere tonight since I am sober and without spooning companion. Just remembered last night's strange dream in which I was hoarding Snickers and other candy bars in an old plaid makeup bag my mom gave me when I was a little lady. Maybe I should treat myself to a candy bar tomorrow after I go for a much-anticipated bike ride. Undecided.

Thinking of the Sesame Street records I used to listen to religiously as a kid in my old bedroom. Oscar the Grouch has a song about how much he loves the rain. That bedroom was also the laundry room. The tumbling dryer creating pleasant white noise that I could use tonight...